An Unexpected Proposal
by Hollywood Phoenix
Summary: *NEW CH 5, 6* What if it was Xander, not Groo, who showed up at the Hyperion at the end of 'Waiting in the Wings'? What if it was right after leaving Anya at the alter? Please R&R!
1. Chapter 1

An Unexpected Proposal  
By: Hollywood Phoenix  
  
A/N: Let's pretend that at the end of 'Waiting in the Wings', it was Xander, not Groo, who showed up at the Hyperion after leaving Anya at the alter. I know that I'm moving the Btvs and Angel timelines a bit but hey, this is AU! :) Assume that Connor's still safe and sound and Cordy is still a brunette with shoulder length hair.  
  
I wrote the first half months ago, right after watching 'Waiting in the Wings.' I always wanted to know what would happen if Xander and Cordy ever had a heart-to-heart, so I figured, what-if?  
  
~~*~~*~~ @ ~~*~~*~~  
  
Chapter 1:  
(c)May 3, 2002  
  
I'm starting to believe that my life is cursed. There's just no other reason why everything keeps happening to me. I'm really trying to be positive about it all and the choices I make but it's getting to be too much.  
  
The day started out so well too. I was happily getting adjusted to being pain-free from my visions, went shopping, and got to have a night out on the town with the gang. While it may be going to a ballet, which, I've never cheered to watch, I eagerly accepted the chance. Any night out strictly for relaxation is great but the occasion called for some dressing up too. Plus, necessary pre-ballet shopping trip made it gold. To top it off, I got to see all the guys look killer in tuxes.  
  
Of course, even more importantly, I got to see their reactions when they saw me. Hey, I'm a young, attractive, wannabe diva. I have needs, like a few male puppy-dogs at my beck-and-call...ahem, I mean, some ardent admiration and a glamourous worry-free night off on the town.  
  
I should have known a mondo-freaky-less night would be too much to ask for.  
  
It wasn't because the performers and the theatre house was haunted. In fact, I can't care less since miserable ghosts and tragic villains are so run-of-the-mill normal. Truth is, I would welcome that over prophecies and visions any day. No, what totally threw me was what happened in the theatre's haunted dressing room.  
  
Well, what did happen in that dressing room?  
  
Hmmm, let me think. First time Angel and I were there, we were minding our own business snooping around for clues when all of a sudden, we were ready to make with the horny and tear each other's clothes off. It was really a strange sensation, being possessed by a spirit, let alone one of the unrequited lovers. I felt a gentle coolness pass over me as that ballerina took over my body, like a pleasant shiver. When I had been completely possessed, a light-headedness came over me, as if I could let go of my inhibitions and just exist. A weight was lifted off my shoulders as her thoughts, her feelings and her actions guided mine.   
  
She recognized her true love before her, and easily embraced him. In front of me, I only saw Angel. When she moved, I moved. When she spoke words of love, I did. And when she kissed Angel, I did too. Gazing at him, stealing kisses in a closed room, I understood the longing and desire that she declared for her lover.  
  
Oh. My. What did I do?  
  
How did I let such a thing happen? Yeah, so I was taken over almost entirely by a lonely spirit, but Angel is my boss, my best friend. I shouldn't be saying those things she said or feeling those emotions for him. And I shouldn't have suggested going back into that room.  
  
So sue me. He practically spelled out how disgusted he was with the whole situation and that was like pouring salt on an open wound. It wasn't as if I was anxious to go back and relive it all so that he could keep expressing that disgust. However, it wasn't as if he had any good ideas forthcoming, right? Letting the spirits re-possess our bodies may have been my brilliant solution to solving "the case" but it was the only one that made sense. At least in my mind.  
  
Okay, my head was screaming at me for mentioning the idea while some other part was thinking about what Angel was covering with his jacket. Despite his indications that he was revolted by the idea of us, I mean them, being together, he was definitely responding. Then again, he is male, if not quite a man anymore. And last time I checked, I am, to take a page from Gunn, a damn fine woman.  
  
Maybe in some twisted way, I was a little curious to see what would happen next. And boy, did I ever find out when we returned to the dressing room. Or should I say, man?  
  
What's wrong with me?  
  
Oh, I know. It's been a while since I've been involved with anyone and I guess I would jump at the chance for any making out, even if it's unreal and fleeting. At least it's with a hottie that I'm comfortable around.  
  
No, that's not it. I'm the Queen of restraint and womanly patience.  
  
Maybe it's because I'm used to being able to get any guy I want. He's the only guy that has ever brushed me off before and the only one that I can boast being best friends with. Only, despite our recent closeness and our obvious compatibility, he still doesn't want to be anything more than just friends. Not that I'm interested in anything more than that, no sirree. I'm obviously and sadly desperate, but I'm not that stupid. But maybe the fact that he showed even the slightest interest in me, even if it had to be done with magic, did wonders for the ego. The whole practically kicking and screaming on his part? Not so good for the ego. It's no wonder I let it go as far as it did.  
  
So now we're back on sane ghost-free ground and he's blabbing about being friends with me, stuttering as Xander used to when I thought my greatest purpose in life was to be a cheerleader. I know he's trying to get through a "let's be friends" speech, even if I've never been sensitive enough to dole it out before, much less been 10 yards from being on the receiving end. I never would have considered that I would be hearing it, much less getting it from him. And it's so unnecessary.  
  
If I wasn't absolutely stupefied by tonight, I would be laughing out loud at Angel finding it necessary enough to clear the air between us to come out of his uncommunicative broody shell. Only, like I said, each time Angel expresses his disgust at the idea of being attracted to me, I feel like salt has been pouring on this open wound. This speech is just making the pain of the wound grow larger, festering in its persistence.  
  
As Angel continues to carefully emphasize our growing friendship, I look over his shoulder and get the last shock of the night.  
  
"Grew?" I blurt out, repeating Angel's last word. He looks startled, like he didn't expect me to say anything throughout his grand brush-off. He stutters again, as if he has no idea how to continue, while I stare at the dark haired man standing behind him. Suddenly, I'm running towards him.  
  
"Xander?" I cry out happily, glad to have the excuse to rudely push past Angel and end his painful monologue. I throw my arms around him, so grateful that I have something new to focus on.  
  
Xander hugs me back, and when his hands drop to my waist, he pulls away slightly and looks into my eyes. "Cordelia," he begins seriously, "There's something I need to ask you." 


	2. Chapter 2

An Unexpected Proposal  
By: Hollywood Phoenix  
  
A/N: I'm having lots of fun with this! And I'm glad to see from the reviews that you guys are having as much fun with me! Thanks for the encouragement and feedback everyone!  
  
So far: Cordy is upset with her dressing room episodes with Angel during 'Waiting in the Wings' and suddenly, Xander pops up with a serious question. She's just about to find out what it is.  
  
~~*~~*~~ @ ~~*~~*~~  
  
Chapter 2  
(c) May 9, 2002  
  
Behind me, Lorne is breaking it to Angel how Xander just showed up on the front doorstep, looking all miserable and professing that he needed to see me. Angel suddenly sticks his hands in his pockets, like a dejected puppy and mumbles something about checking on Connor. The perpetually grinning green demon immediately responds to him but I'm not listening to anyone else anymore. My mind is on the puppy heading up the stairs. My eyes travel with him. If I had sleeves, I'd say my heart was printed all over them.  
  
Why's he going away?  
  
And why's Lorne staring at me that way? Here I thought he didn't know how to frown.  
  
Suddenly, I'm jerked back reality because Xander is staring into my eyes again, trying to get my attention. I squint my eyes in an effort to concentrate on what he's saying.  
  
"Like I said, " he's mouthing, "I need an honest answer." He's reaching into his pocket, and I can see him going to the very bottom to produce something small. What can it be? Coins? Gum? Breathmint?  
  
Nope, it's a sparkling diamond ring. Oh. It's really sparkly. *Gasp.*  
  
Ever get the feeling that you're having an out-of-body experience but not? Like, you're seeing everything going on around you but you're the focus of everyone's attention?  
  
That's exactly how I'm feeling right now.  
  
I'm hearing all the gasps around me and am glad to find that I'm not the only stunned one in the audience. Oh, wait, I'm not part of the audience.  
  
As the ring tilts my way, I see that it's a 24 carat gold diamond ring. It may be three years since I've seen one up close and personal, but once a material girl's seen one, she can spot it for life.  
  
Oh. *Wow.*  
  
Fred turns around and staring at the back of her head, can still hear her comment to Wesley, "I thought for sure she and Angel were meant to be together."  
  
Huh? What's she babbling about? Me and Angel? What, wait, the ring's for me?  
  
"Oh, uh, Xander." I'm stuttering like Angel was before. Who knew I was capable of this speech impediment? "I'm flattered..."  
  
Suddenly, Xander's pulling his hand back and laughing in his Xander-like fashion. Only he could ever make snorting look adorable. Some things never change.  
  
But now, I'm very confused.  
  
"No, this ring's not for you." he explains. "It's Anya's."  
  
"Oh." I say, vaguely disappointed that I'm no longer in its dazzling presence. "Well, that explains it." I let out a sigh of relief. I hear Fred let out a "whew" of relief too. Suddenly I feel irate as I realize what day it is.  
  
"You had your wedding already." I accuse him. "I never got invited! What, did you forget to put me on the list?"  
  
"I know, I'm sorry." he protests weakly, putting his hands up to protect himself.  
  
I shake my head, thinking again that some things never change.  
  
"I wanted to, but Anya was a little uncomfortable with having my ex at our wedding... even though she invited a few of her own herself. Okay, she did try to help you get back at me with that vengeance spell... I thought it might be... awkward."  
  
"Yeah, excuses, excuses." I grumble. "If it wasn't for Willow spilling the beans, I'd never even know that you were getting married. So, did you come here to rub it in to us lower-class citizens who didn't make the wedding invite?" Ooh, I know, I hold a mean grudge sometimes. After all, he deserved it! I look around before needling it into him some more, "So, where's the happy honey?"  
  
Xander hesitates. He looks ashamed. That can't be good. "She's not happy," he says sadly. "And she's not my honey anymore."  
  
I resist the urge to whack him, "What did you do?" Knowing Xander, it had to be his fault, right?  
  
"I kind of..." he trails off a bit. I lift my eyebrows at him, clearly signalling him to finish what he started. "... left Anya at the alter," he rushed.  
  
My jaw drops now. Behind me, I sense Fred's jaw dropping with the same indignation. "You jilted her on her wedding day?" I shriek. "How could you? That's the worst thing you could do. Much worse than getting caught cheating by your girlfriend and causing said girlfriend to fall down some old wooden stairs and get stabbed in the back with an ugly huge spike." I turn around a little nervously at that last comment to Gunn's and Wesley's shell-shocked expressions. "Hypothetically speaking, of course."  
  
Fred pipes in then, "That's really bad." Xander hangs his head and finds his shoes incredibly fascinating. Sisters uniting and all, if he didn't feel like a bug for doing that before, he's certainly feeling like one now.  
  
"I know." Xander finally says. He looks up at me again, "I screwed up. I need to make it up to her. This time, I want to fix things right."  
  
I stare at him, realizing why he came to me. Seeing the miserable look on his face, and hearing the sincerity in his words, I start to soften.  
  
"How can I help you?" I ask.  
  
"Can you let me crash at your place for tonight?" he pleads. "I need to talk to you... in private." he says, glancing at the crowd that's still hanging onto each word.  
  
I fight back a sigh. "Okay, so that your whole sob story isn't front page for the Angel Investigations world, I'll let you stay at my apartment." I tell him. Sticking a warning finger in his delighted face, I caution him, "But only for one night."  
  
-----  
Disclaimers: Angel & co. aren't mine! 


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Please keep the reviews coming! I'm a feedback hog. :) Mucho gratitude!!!  
Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters or the setting. But these stories are 100% mine. Seriously, please don't sue! I'm just a fan!  
  
Chapter 3  
(c) May 15, 2002  
  
"Nice pad." Xander comments, as we walk into the door of my apartment. Dennis immediately turns on the lights.  
  
"Thanks, Dennis." I say absentmindedly as he takes my coat from me.  
  
"What the--?" Xander asks curiously. He's gaping at the coat floating into my bedroom.  
  
"Oh, guess I forgot to introduce you to Dennis. He's my roommate." I gesture for Dennis to come back out, "Dennis, meet Xander."  
  
Xander's still speechless. "Uh--"  
  
"He's a ghost." I explain to him. A cool breeze whizzes past me. "Dennis, stop being rude," I scold. Dennis is a great phantom and all, but he has something against guys I bring into our home. "Sorry," I apologize to Xander, "It took him a while to get used to Wesley and Gunn when he first met them too. Hopefully he warms up to you faster than he did to Angel."  
  
That did it. Dennis came back with a kitchen knife.  
  
"No! Down, Dennis!" I'm exasperated as I grab at the handle. "He's not going to duel you the way Angel does. Besides, he could get hurt."  
  
"Hey!" Xander exclaims. "I've gotten good at the whole saving the world thing."  
  
I turn to him, considering stroking his ego. Then I remember what he did to Anya and let out a laugh. Okay, maybe it was for me too. Admittedly, it was a little malicious.  
  
Well, I'm no Saint.  
  
"Dennis, put down the knife." I say firmly. The knife floats back into the kitchen. Almost immediately, two foaming mugs of hot chocolate float out.  
  
Xander is impressed. "Where did you find him?"  
  
"Actually, he came with the house," I grin. "Cleanest roommate ever." I blow a kiss to Dennis. A cool wet breeze touches my cheek. "So," I say to Xander as I grab one of the mugs and flop down on my couch. "Spill the details."  
  
Xander grabs for the other mug. Playfully, it sails out of his grasp. He tries a second time but it moves away from him again.  
  
"Dennis..." I say warningly. Xander finally gets hold of his hot chocolate. Gingerly, he sits down.  
  
"So, he likes Angel?" Xander is a little bitter.  
  
I smirk. "Actually..."  
  
Xander shakes his head and takes a sip. "It's good."  
  
"I still don't know what you want me to help you with," I remind him.  
  
Xander blows out his breath. "It's kind of a lot to ask-- uh..."  
  
I roll my eyes, "Spit it out Xander."  
  
"I need your forgiveness."  
  
I raise my eyebrows. "You," I point at him. "came all this way to hear me," I point to my chest. "say 'I forgive you'?"  
  
Xander shrugs and can't look at me.  
  
"You got it." I say quickly.  
  
Xander looks surprised, "You didn't even think about it."  
  
"Yeah, well, when you've had the last three years that I've had..."  
  
"What happened?" Xander frowns and leans forward in interest.  
  
"Oh, not much. Just battled a few dozen demons and scummy lawyers, dealt with a few prophecies, acquired some visions, jumped into a demon dimension, nearly died a few hundred times, and became demonized." I tick off each item nonchalently.  
  
Xander looks stunned. "Oh. Sorry." Suddenly, he jumps up, "Oh, man. I should have called. I shouldn't have come here."  
  
I'm confused, "What did I say?"  
  
"I didn't know how bad you had it."  
  
I'm on my feet now, "Bad? I don't have it bad."  
  
Xander backs up, "Okay, bad way of phrasing that." He winces.  
  
I glare at him, "That's it."  
  
Xander's eyes dart from side-to-side. The door is just too far for him to make a run for. There's no escape for him and he knows it.  
  
I'm not letting him off that easy. "You're staying here until I know what you did to Anya."  
  
Literally gulping, Xander sits back onto the couch. "I told you. I was a jerk."  
  
I put my hands on my hips, "I want to know why."  
  
He hangs his head, "What's to know? I didn't want to get married."  
  
"You don't love her?"  
  
"I do. I still do."  
  
I'm confused, "But you don't want to marry her now?"  
  
"Yes. No. I don't know."  
  
"So, it's just cold feet." He's looking pretty nervous again. I can't help drilling into him. "What, can't handle a little commitment?"  
  
Xander's looking pretty ashamed now, "I guess I can't."  
  
I sigh. "You're not the only one."  
  
Xander brightens up, "Story?"  
  
"No." I tell him shortly. He doesn't pursue it. I'm feeling pretty forgiving again, "I think we need to catch up."  
  
*** Four hours later ***  
  
You know how it is when you get together with this really old friend that you haven't talked to for, like, ages? And from the moment you start talking, it's like you were never apart? Well, Xander and I were never like best buds. We were more likely to be making out than chatting.  
  
But whaddya know? We're talking it up like the last four years of yesterdays never happened. I was lying on my couch, my head on a cushion. Xander was on the floor, leaning against the front of the couch, where my head was. We were yawning but neither of us wanted to call it a night. The next thing I knew, I was waking up to a large shadow whispering in my ear, "Cordy. Cordy, wake up."  
  
"Ahhh!" I sit up straight on the couch. Below me, Xander's head lolls to the side.  
  
"Oww!" he cries, holding his head.  
  
I peer up at the solid being he hit. Angel is looking down at us. He's not looking amused.  
  
Well, if he's not, neither am I.  
  
"Dennis." I state, realizing that all the locks in the world will never keep this particular vampire out of my house.  
  
"I knocked," Angel says defensively.  
  
I stare at him suspiciously. He's carrying a bundle and if it's what, or should I say, who I think it is, he's deader than ever.  
  
"Look who missed you." He holds out a sleepy-looking Connor.  
  
Yep. Give me a stake now.  
  
Angel sees the daggers in my eyes, "You can't fault me for being concerned."  
  
"Of Xander?"  
  
The devil's name that's spoken pipes up now, "Dead-boy's being over-protective, isn't he?" He quickly gets up when he sees the look on Angel's face.   
  
I think Xander's afraid of getting stomped on by a 248 year old grouch of a vampire! Hey, it's not even morning!  
  
When he sees Connor, Xander does a double-take. "Whoa, whose kid?" He looks at me questioningly.  
  
Will people stop assuming already? I mean, I love being considered the little guy's mother, but as if! And I'm tired of explaining the whole thing. "He's mine," I tell him defensively.  
  
Uh oh. Why did I say that?  
  
And why is Angel looking at me like that? He should understand how tired I am of having to explain over and over and over...  
  
Xander's mouth hangs open, "When was this?"  
  
Angel answers for me, "Just three months ago."  
  
Xander stares at my body. Could he be any more obvious? "But you look..."  
  
"Great? Gorgeous? Never been better?" Geez, you'd think he'd jump in any time. "So I didn't actually carry him for nine months. And he's not, like, blood related. But I love him."  
  
Okay, Xander's looking scared of me now. It's taken him over six years to get to this point. Is he ever slow. Well, I knew that too.  
  
Angel picks it up from me. "Don't ever question a mother's love."  
  
Xander looks at me, then him, then back at me again. "Father?" he croaks out.  
  
Oh, if he was scared before...   
  
Angel sighs and gives me a 'What can I say?' look.  
  
"Oh." Xander says, in the way that only he could. "Uh, I think I need to make a phone call."  
  
I wave towards my bedroom as I suppress a laugh, "I've got a phone in the bedroom." As soon as he disappears, I whirl around. "This is blackmail."  
  
Angel feigns a look of innocence. "I don't know what you mean."  
  
Of course I don't buy it. "Connor," I point out to him even as I take my precious baby out of his arms. "You're using Connor as blackmail."  
  
He smirks, "And what would be my reason?"  
  
"You want to know what Xander is doing here. I'm sure you heard about Xander leaving Anya at the alter. And if I know Fred, she's told you exactly how big and shiny that diamond ring was."  
  
As the smile slides off Angel's face, I fight to urge to yell, 'Busted!'  
  
"Then I guess you know Fred," he says sheepishly.  
  
"I can handle myself, you know. My god, this is Xander!"  
  
"I know you can handle yourself. It's just that he's your, uhm..."  
  
"My uhm...? You're starting to sound like my uhm..." Oops, said that out loud, didn't I? That shut him up.  
  
But only for a second.  
  
"He hurt you once before. He betrayed you."  
  
"So did you." Oh, the look that I caused.  
  
Great, I'm feeling guilty. I should be happy he's coming out of his shell. Even if it's to harp on me.   
  
But no! He can't just sail into MY apartment and pass HIS judgement on who I get to hang out with.  
  
It's just that he always seems to be so overprotective of me and yet what right does he have? Even if he's old enough, he's not my father. He's not my brother. He's not my boyfriend and heaven knows he'll never be my husband. So, why should he be sounding so, so, not jealous. He can't be that.  
  
Apprehensive. That's a good word to describe it. That must be it. It's his stupid conscience. That soul of his that makes him protect everyone within a 10 mile radius.  
  
That thing of his that makes him so suffocating.  
  
"I'm sorry," he says. And he sounds it. I cradle Connor in my arms, trying to forget this whole thing. Only, it's one too many. Too many signals that don't mean anything. Too overwhelming.  
  
Suddenly, Xander comes back out, looking upset. "I have to go," he announces.  
  
Just when we were becoming friends? "Why?" Well, I'm upset myself.  
  
"Yes, why?" Doesn't Angel look a little too happy about this?  
  
"I just talked to Willow. Anya left Sunnydale." Xander runs a hand through his hair.  
  
"Where'd she go?"  
  
"Las Vegas." Angel's brows rise with Xander's response. Xander grabs the bag by the door, "I've got to find her."  
  
I lean back quietly, holding my lips to Connor's forehead. My mind's going with one thought. After three years being elbow-deep in demon gore, I'm due for a vacation.  
  
"Okay, well, see ya. Don't let the door hit you. I mean, it's a real shame that you couldn't stay longer." Angel is practically gleeful. Hmm... Is 'gleeful' even a word? In any case, his reaction does it.  
  
"What are you--?" Angel asks as I give Connor back to him.  
  
"I'll miss you." I coo at my little guy. As I play with his tiny miraculous hands, I ignore his father.  
  
Oh no, he's pouting. No fair. He's brooding now. Yes, and his father is too. Time to make the exit before I change my mind.  
  
"Xander, wait." I call out as he heads out the door and Dennis starts slamming it behind him. He stops and the door pauses. "I need a vacation."  
  
"Cordy." It's soft. It's devastating. I know better, but I look back at my vampire anyway.  
  
Pictures of a hottie in a black trench coat could sell a million copies. Pictures of the hottie holding a baby would sell billions. And pictures of Angel and Connor. That's priceless. But I'm still suffocating in whatever it is that I've been slowly drowning myself in.  
  
I repeat my own soft plea, "I need a vacation."  
  
Angel's eyes say it all. He doesn't like it, but he won't stop me.  
  
As I leave my own apartment with Xander, I glance back to see my door closing.  
  
"You sure about this?" Xander asks me as we settle into his car. It's a rare moment of sensitivity from him. I'm starting to discover tonight that he's changed.  
  
Well, so have I.  
  
I nod. "Let's do this." I stare straight ahead, "Look out Vegas, here we come." 


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: This is my silly fic. It's more C/X frienship now, but I really don't have a clue yet. Anyway, thanks for those who emailed me to let me know that you're enjoying this story. Please keep the reviews coming! I'm a feedback hog. :) Mucho gratitude!!!  
Disclaimers: I don't own any of the characters or the setting. But these stories are 100% mine. Seriously, please don't sue! I'm just a fan!  
  
Chapter 4  
(c) May 26, 2002  
~~ * ~~ ~~ * ~~ ~~ * ~~ ~~ * ~~ ~~ * ~~ ~~ * ~~ ~~ * ~~   
  
I don't know how it happened. How I was in Vegas all of a sudden. How there were rows of benches in front of me. How when I looked down, I saw that I was in a cheap white satin dress and holding a bouquet of white roses. All I know is that when I saw a large man in an Elvis wig and dressed in a shiny white two-piece suit with dangling gold chains holding a book and an unbelievably wrinkled old man straining out his version of 'Here Comes the Bride' on an accordian, my throat closed, my chest started pounding and I wanted to cry.  
  
Maybe more so because of the dark-haired guy standing in front of Father Elvis at the alter. It wasn't because I knew him. Because I did. And that made it all the scarier.  
  
Even more terrifying still was seeing his ex on the opposite side of him, holding a bouquet of pink roses and beaming like she was really happy.  
  
My legs are glued to the floor, but somehow I've made it to the front. Anya on my left. Xander on my right.  
  
Oh, god, I'm marrying Xander.  
  
I'm marrying Xander, I think. I'm going to be Mrs. Cordelia Harris.  
  
It's not a bad name, but when I dated him, I never even considered it. So, what am I doing now? I must be drunk. No, I'm clearly in my senses even though my legs aren't working properly. Smell my breath, no alcohol. Always a good indicator of drunkenness.  
  
Smell his breath. He doesn't smell like he's drunk either. Hmmm, actually he smells minty fresh. Like, he's been brushing his teeth for two hours, fresh.  
  
Focus. Breathe. What's going on. Wait, what's The King Minister saying?  
  
"And if anyone here has any objections to this union, speak now or forever hold your peace."  
  
Oh lord. Speak, dammit! Ohhhh, can't speak. Well, someone else, say something!  
  
"I object!"  
  
Thank you! I silently look up. Turning around, I look at my savior.  
  
Oh, it's him. Ladies and gentlemen, my hero. My champion.  
  
Why, of course who else could it be?  
  
He sweeps in with his black trenchcoat billowing around him. It's like slow-motion as time starts to crawl while he makes his way up the aisle. It's ridiculous, but I'm thinking that while he's as cool as usual, the least he could have done is wear something more suitable to my wedding.  
  
Not that there will be one.  
  
My black knight strides up now and starts advancing on Not-Really-Elvis, who drops his text and scurries behind the accordian grandfather.  
  
Xander, to his credit, does not go the way of Elvis and lets out a loud yelp instead. "Hey dead-boy, I was wondering when my best man would show."  
  
Oh, say it's not true.  
  
Anya shines her chipper than a cheery chipmunk smile onto the manpire in black leather. "You're just in time for the best part," she enthuses. Could her teeth be any whiter? I can almost imagine this gleam off her biscupids.  
  
My would-be champion turns to me now and furrows his brows at me. "So, you're marrying Xander," he remarks.  
  
Well, like it's not obvious when I'm dressed head-to-toe in white and standing at the front of a Vegas chapel. "Looks that way," I shoot back wryly. Gee, we're such great conversationalists. That's the secret to our best friendship.  
  
My vampire smirks at me. "Maybe I shouldn't stand in the way."  
  
And they say chivalry is dead.  
  
I never knew I had it in me, but I'm snarling now. Look out, angry pissed-off bride.  
  
"Are you saying that you want me to marry him?" I demand.  
  
Angel runs a hand through his very nicely cropped perpetually bed-head hair and opens his mouth. Unfortunately, he doesn't say something because an uninvited guest has arrived.  
  
Buffy the vampire slayer has burst in, arriving in her usual 'bust through the double doors and storm in with a pout' style. She makes a stance, which I will only describe as very vampy super-heroine.  
  
Maybe I'll also comment on her continual lack of Charlie's Angels fashion. Or in this case, Angel's Angel fashion.  
  
I must be drunk.  
  
"Stop right there!" she cries. "The wedding must go on!"  
  
Okay, now I'm confused. If we stop, how can the wedding... oh, why do I bother? I'm starting to take things as literally as Fred.  
  
Speaking of whom, I expect, will walk in right now and start declaring that kyerumption and moira is totally out of whack. It would be great if Lorne was here to back her up. Because, there's nothing like having more demons and crazy people to surround me.  
  
Or maybe it's I who's insane. I must be, for having listened to Wesley enough to use 'I' in my previous thought and not 'me.'  
  
The B-one stalks up to my A-one and shakes a disappointed finger at him. "You're mine forever. You told me so."  
  
"No I didn't," Angel denies. He turns to me and pleads with his eyes.  
  
"Well, you implied it." she concedes. Turning to me, she tells me, "You and Xander belong together. Like you always have. You're my second-string pals that found love along our journey together."  
  
"Journey? To what?" I ask.  
  
"You once said that Xander grows on you like a Chia pet. And you two grow together so well. Forever. Just like me and Angel." Buffy smiles.  
  
Uh, did she even hear what I said?  
  
"Angel's path will eventually lead back and intersect with mine. His little detour is just a plot to develop his character, make him more well-rounded than a brooding Romeo to my Juliet."  
  
"Hark, my Juliet!" a new voice calls out.  
  
I stare behind Buffy to see a blond-haired, pale-faced lean machine decked in leather stride up to us.  
  
"How nice of you to join us," I say flippantly to him. He takes the time to wink at me and then starts in on Ms. I'm the Center of Everyone's Universe.  
  
"Love, what are you doing?" Spike asks. "You're mine!" He reaches out, grabs her and pulls her to him. And then, he gives her the biggest smack on the lips that I have ever witnessed in my life.  
  
Buffy pushes him away before he's finished. "Ewww... I'm not your love!" she shrieks. She looks at Angel. "Aren't you going to do something?".  
  
Angel looks surprised. "Me? What can I do?"  
  
"Defend my honour. You're supposed to be all jealous about this and beat the crap out of him." She tells him.  
  
The bleached blond vampire smirks. "No, love. That's your job." Then he turns to me, "Well, look at you princess. All grown up and beeeauuutiful. What a shame you're gonna be Mrs. Xander Harris. What a waste."  
  
"Hey!" Xander exclaims. "I resent that."  
  
"I do too." Anya jumps in. "I was willing to become that."  
  
I lift my hand up and put it on my forehead. I must be running a fever. Angel leans toward me and whispers, "You're not sick."  
  
"So, why am I living this nightmare?" I demand.  
  
"Because you need to --"  
  
"Wake up. Cordy. We've stopped."  
  
In a great haze, I open my eyes to see the bright light of day in the middle of a parking lot. In front of us is a huge flashing neon sign that screams 'CASINO' and beside us is less than stellar accomodations.  
  
"Welcome to Vegas." I mutter under my breath. I look over at Xander who's still at the wheel. "Did you drive all night? Why didn't you wake me up to switch? Or at least keep you company along the way."  
  
"It's all good." he says good-naturedly. "Besides, I didn't have the heart to wake you."  
  
I raise my eyebrows questioningly at his mischievious grin.  
  
He answers my unvoiced query. "You were drooling."  
  
"Was not!" I exclaim, fighting the urge to whack at him. "I'm not a dog! Next thing you'll tell me is that I was snoring too."  
  
Xander pauses dramatically. "Well..." he says meaningfully.  
  
I cross my arms and look away. Oh yeah, I know the truth.  
  
"So, ready to check out the scene?" Xander asks. "Or do you want more quality time with your pleasant dreams?"  
  
I give him a look, trying to gauge what he means by that. But he just gets out of the car. I shrug and get out as well. Looking up at the harsh sun bearing down on us, I realize that it's been a while since I've really been outdoors during the day. Going to work and shopping when it's sunny out don't count.  
  
But there's no time to dwell on forgotten luxuries like this. We're on a mission.  
  
"Where do we start?"  
  
***********************************  
  
Vegas in the daytime is very different from Vegas at night.  
  
Vegas during the day is normal. People walk around in their shades and Hawaiian shirts and khaki shorts. Anyone who dresses in gold chains and an Elvis suit sticks out like a sore thumb. The whole town is like one big carnival. There are horror houses and fortune tellers and cheap games every two steps.  
  
But at night is when the real fun begins. At night is when everything lights up and the crowds really come out to play. Casinos are full-swing here and the Vegas nightclubs are alight with tall, leggy, scantily clad dancers and flashy shows. I swear that if there was one thing that astronauts in space could see, it would be this town. I'm looking at all the guys around and thinking which ones are vampires because seriously, with this atmosphere, they all very well could be. I thought L.A. was pretty fake, but Vegas? It smells of money and lavish entertainment.  
  
It's my kind of town.  
  
During the day, Xander and I scoured the streets for Anya. We went to the places that he thought she would like to go first, like the casinos with lots of money and glittery lights. We hit them all, includng the Ritz and the Star Trek one twice, but they're pretty tame during the day, so we headed back out into the sun and hit the pavement. Only, she wasn't in sight anywhere.  
  
Pretty soon, light faded into darkness. Walking around aimlessly, joking around casually with him, I'm finding that as I'm learning more and more about this new and improved Xander, I'm liking him very much.  
  
We head back into one of the first casinos to find that it's packed with grinning, hopeful everyday sort of people like us. All of a sudden, in front of us, we see a girl squeal and jump up and down in excitement. Yeah, she just won big.  
  
I'm tempted now. So is Xander. And we've been so good all day.  
  
"Just five bucks?" he asks, reading my mind.  
  
"Oh yeah," I nod. He's been up for more than 24 hours. I'm surprised he hasn't keeled over by now.  
  
He heads up to the slot machines and feeds the bill through. Giving the handle a yank, we watch the wheels roll around.  
  
Nope. No luck.  
  
A few more yanks and we're fast running out of that five bucks worth. Last try, and Xander gets off the stool to give me a try. I take the offered seat and give the handle my best pull.  
  
And am very surprised when I see three 7's staring back at me.  
  
"You won!" Xander shouts. Suddenly I'm being hugged very tightly and jumping up and down.  
  
Wow, this was just too easy. The coins are flying out now, spilling onto to the plush carpet. My eyes widen like saucers as I stare at the glittery gold.  
  
"You're my good luck charm." Xander grins, as he picks the money up and starts counting. "There must be five thousand dollars here."  
  
I shake my head to clear it. I've never won at the casinos before. "So, what next?"  
  
Xander grins at me as he jiggles some gold coins in his hand. "We keep playing."  
  
Okay, mission forgotten. 


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Please R&R!  
Disclaimers: Angel belongs to the WB, Joss, and David.  
  
Chapter 5  
(c) June 22, 2002  
~~ * ~~ ~~ * ~~ ~~ * ~~ ~~ * ~~ ~~ * ~~ ~~ * ~~ ~~ * ~~   
  
I have no idea why I've never visited a casino before today. Well, maybe because I was underage before? Other than that, this place is fabulous. The night is young. The mass of crowds are cheering us on, the center of the casino. And the money is rolling right in.  
  
We've racked up quite a bit of money now, Xander and I. Enough for a really nice shiny car or vacation. Or maybe a nice wedding.  
  
Where did that thought come from?  
  
Well, I suppose it's perfectly logical. After all, we are in the wedding capital of the country, if not the continent. And considering that all sorts of people get married each second of each hour of each day...  
  
Well, like I said, we forgot the mission pretty quickly and thoroughly.  
  
Only we should have realized that while we forgot the mission, it certainly didn't forget us.  
  
Xander's laughing, jiggling the buckets of chips in our possession. "Lady luck!" he shouts to me, doing a jig in the middle of the casino.  
  
I laugh, but a little nervously as I glance around. The last thing I want is to get kicked out for drunkenness when we're on a roll.  
  
Although, I do have to admit that we've been tippling a bit of first beer, then wine, and now champagne. And a lot more than what I'm used to.  
  
But hey, at least we're still winning, right?  
  
Until the crowd around us parts slightly to reveal a shaky looking Anya.  
  
Uh oh.  
  
I'm the one who sees her first. Xander is still laughing glibly and bouncing around, hugging everyone when he stops short suddenly.  
  
"Hello, Xander," Anya says, disbelievingly.  
  
"Anya. Hi." he says simply.  
  
She turns to me. "And Cordelia. What a surprise."  
  
I notice she didn't add 'pleasant' to that last sentence.  
  
"It's been a long time," I reply coolly. "How've you been."  
  
"I'm good," she suddenly bubbles. Then she drops the bombshell. "I'm getting married."  
  
"Wh-what?" Xander asks, ashen. I'm afraid he's going to faint.  
  
"To Davey," she explains, waving her hand towards a man behind her. The man, laden with what looks like a million gold chains, looks up at the sound of his name and gives a little wave.  
  
"He's rich," Anya continues, beaming. "He promised to build me a swimming pool filled entirely with twenty dollar bills."  
  
"That's a lot of twenty dollar bills," Xander rasps faintly. He really does look like he'll keel over any second. We shouldn't have ordered that champagne.  
  
"Well, I guess I should go now," Anya says, nodding. "So nice to see you both again."  
  
Could anyone be any chipper? But her eyes are a little too bright as she makes her way back to Davey and his grubby millionaire hands which promptly wrap around her waist.  
  
As soon as Anya and Davey disappear, I turn to Xander, who's just sitting there, downing the last of the champagne.  
  
"Come on," I say to him, "I don't have the heart to keep playing. Let's get out of here."  
  
"Yeah," he says tonelessly. The crowd groans that their entertainment is leaving so soon, but I just shrug as we make our way out of the casino.  
  
"I want a drink." Xander says thickly.  
  
"I don't know if that's a good idea," I tell him. But he ignores me and heads for the hotel bar.  
  
"Two tequilas," he calls out to the bartender.  
  
"I think I've had enough," I tell him.  
  
"Nonsense. Let's drink to our miserable love lives." he says as the bartender places the two shots in front of us.  
  
"Xander..." I say as he shakes salt onto his wrist and licks it.  
  
"I'm assuming you don't have a love life. You wouldn't be here with me if you had." Xander grimaces as he bites into a lemon.  
  
I think about that mysterious manpire I left behind and stare at the man in front of me. I think of the constant reminder that I can never have the true love that dreams are made of. "No, I don't," I say. I grab the salt shaker and a lemon slice. I'm not that sad, really. It's just the alcohol talking now.  
  
"To us. Being miserable." Xander says, clinking my glass.  
  
We down the shots together. It burns as it slides down the back of my throat. But I'm feeling happier in my misery now as we down another one, after another one. I'm starting to forget.  
  
"You know, I forgot how much fun we used to have together," Xander slurs. "When we were like this by ourselves, no worries. And us not being in Sunnydale High," he adds. "You always were great when we weren't in that school."  
  
I stare off into the distance and try to conjure up those memories from all those years ago. "Sure, I remember."  
  
"I keep thinking what would have happened to us. If we had gotten a second chance." Xander continues, slamming down his fifth shot glass.  
  
"Probably gotten married with a brood of 3.5 kids and a dog. And a house with white picket fences." I say, snorting ironically.  
  
"Never would have figured you for the domestic type." Xander laughs.  
  
"Obviously you didn't know me that well." I scoff.  
  
He looks somber suddenly. "You're right. I don't." He grabs my hands suddenly and says seriously, "I'm finding that I'm liking what I know now. I wouldn't mind knowing more."  
  
"Neither do I." I say sincerely. After all, I never would have expected that Xander and I could be friends again after all these years.  
  
"I'm glad." he says mysteriously. "You know, coming here, of all places, with you. I'm wondering if it means something."  
  
"Means something," I repeat.  
  
Sliding off the stool, he crouches down on one knee and gazes up at me adoringly, still holding onto my hands.  
  
Oh, my, god. This isn't what I think --.  
  
"Cordelia, will you marry me?"  
  
A million thoughts flash through my mind. The vampire who can't be perfectly happy. The one whose best friend in the whole galaxy, why not the universe, what was I saying? Oh yeah, who is sure will eventually get his soul back but probably not before she grows old and wrinkly. And who will probably still run back to his one true love.  
  
"Yes," I say. "Yes, Xander. I will." 


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6  
(c) June 22, 2002  
~~ * ~~ ~~ * ~~ ~~ * ~~ ~~ * ~~ ~~ * ~~ ~~ * ~~ ~~ * ~~   
  
Lots of planning goes into a wedding. Even one that's to take place one day after the proposal.  
  
They rent dresses here by the hour. I can't believe I've taken to doing this.  
  
And I can't believe the pain my head is in this morning.  
  
Xander's in just as much pain as I am, and probably more so since he had more than I did. But he's really happy. He's been floating around like he's on cloud number nine, which is very strange to me. Wasn't he the one who ran out on Anya on their wedding day?  
  
"Hey there, beautiful," he grins, coming up to me and kissing my neck. I try not to squirm and tell myself that it's only natural to feel this way. You have to ease back into the whole touchy-feely stuff with your ex. "You okay?" he asks me.  
  
"I'm just a little jumpy today," I say apologetically. "First wedding jitters. The unexpectedness of it all."  
  
"It's going to be okay. We're going to have the rest of our lives to get used to it." Xander soothes.  
  
Yeah. The. Rest. Of. Our. Lives.  
  
"Look, I gotta talk to the minister for a sec. And book a room," he says, winking at me. I smile back weakly, trying to muster the same enthusiasm he's feeling.  
  
The minister... A room!  
  
After watching Xander disappear into the chapel of love, I wander to the bar. I'm in no shape to drink again, but this is a dire circumstance.  
  
And I'm desperate.  
  
As I sip my martini quietly, I clear all thoughts from my mind. "Breathe, Cordy," I tell myself. "Do not think about what you're doing with your life with this life-altering split-decision which you made in a fit of drunkenness. Do not think about the reasons you made this said life-altering split-decision which you made in a fit of drunkenness even though it was because of a fit of inebriated jealous non-rage."  
  
Okay, that's not helping. Focus on something else. Focus on the two women beside you.  
  
"And so I don't know if I should just continue throwing myself at a man who won't see me past his blonde bimbos and their cheap floozying," one woman, a proud brunette, was saying.  
  
"Honey, we've all been there," the other woman, a totally dyed redhead, replies. Yeah, I guess we have.  
  
"It would be so easy if I could just get past him," woman number one says sounding extremely depressed. Yeah, been there too.  
  
"If you want my advice, forget him. He's like an illness that needs to be cured. You have a great guy waiting for you, all ready to pamper and take care of you," dyed-redhead advises.  
  
"I wish it were that easy. I just can't stop thinking about that jerk. He's so strong and masculine."  
  
Sigh. That sounds so familiar.  
  
"He's my angel." The brunette throws her head onto her hands and sobs, "I can't get over him. There's no cure for what I got."  
  
I stand up, repeating that last sentence over in my head. There's no cure for what I got.  
  
I march over to the phone determinedly, fish out some quarters and dial a very familiar number. When my perky voice starts talking, I realize it went straight to voicemail.  
  
Damn that vampire and not learning to use a cell phone.   
  
I dial another very familiar number. Come on, somebody pick up!  
  
"Hello?" Fred's tinny southern drawl comes over the wire.  
  
"Fred! I need to talk to Angel."  
  
"Cordy, how are you?" she gushes. "How's Vegas? Are you winning at the casino? You know there's a mathematical way to increase your winnings --"  
  
"Fred," I interrupt. "This is really important."  
  
There's a pause as I wait impatiently.  
  
"Uh, Cordy," Fred says hesitantly. She takes a deep breath as I bite my nails. Nasty habit, never picked it up before.  
  
"Where is he?"  
  
"Angel's not here." Fred says finally.  
  
"What do you mean?" I ask. "He's gotta be there." He's my only hope.  
  
"I'm sorry," she says sounding it, and of course, being Fred, she really is.  
  
"It's okay," I tell her, wondering if it really is.  
  
Not knowing what else to do, I make my way back to the chapel of love. It's empty and dark and silent, but that's what I need right now. As I sit down on one of the hard wooden benches and stare at the glitzy sign above the makeshift alter, I wonder if I can really go through with this.  
  
Angel, where are you when I need you?  
  
"I hear you're getting married today. Can I be the first to kiss the lucky bride?"  
  
Ha ha. Real funny trickster, my own mind. And it sounds so like him.  
  
I whirl around anyway and there he is. I note with great satisfaction that my mind has the sense to make sure he's not dressed for a wedding.  
  
"What are you doing here?" I ask him. I can't help it. Even though I know he's a figment of my wildly bizarre imagination, this grin is practically plastered across my face.  
  
"Came to see you," he replies. He casually leans against the side of one of the benches.  
  
God, do I ever want to eat him up.  
  
No, no. That won't do. Focus, Cordy. Breathe. This is supposed to be your wedding day.  
  
Well, even so, I should be able to have some fun with this, shouldn't I? After all, I never got a bridal shower.  
  
I breathe deeply again and get just a hint of cologne. Since when did dreams wear cologne?  
  
Oh my. It is Angel, truly in the flesh here.  
  
Wait, what is he doing, coming to see me? Does he expect to be able to do that, at the drop of the hat? Who is he, thinking that I'll just welcome him with open arms?  
  
"Don't you have better things to do? Like saving the world?" I'm starting get irritated, staring at his smug smile. This is so typical of him. Thinking that I'm his beck-and-call girl.  
  
The smile slides off his face for a second. Just a second. "This is the better thing I had to do," he answers confidently, advancing towards me.  
  
What does he mean by that? I step back, heading towards the door and the exit. "So, how are things?" I ask casually.  
  
"Never better," he says, moving ever closer. Does he know the reaction he can get from me?  
  
"Great, glad to hear that." Good, good, I feel the smooth wooden door now. Okay, push.  
  
Okay, push???  
  
I'm turning around now, as my vampire is getting closer and closer to me. The door is there. The handle is there. I'm pushing... and it won't budge.  
  
I'm trapped in a Vegas wedding chapel with a vampire that I'm in love with!  
  
I whirl back around to see the smirk on Angel's face. "Going somewhere?" he drawls.  
  
Apparently not. 


End file.
